I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

Nathan was planning to spend a couple more days in Rome. He didn’t intend to rush back to Tenebria—not this time. For once, he wanted to breathe. To take a moment of genuine rest without war, schemes, or responsibilities clawing at his mind. Rome had never offered him such peace before… but now, he finally had the chance.

Still, peace was not the only reason he lingered. There were matters here he needed to settle—important ones.

So that afternoon after his conversation with Fulvius and Crassus, he headed straight for the Senate Castle.

He flew, of course.

Walking through the streets would have been impossible. His name had spread like wildfire—whispers of Septimius echoed through every alley, tavern, and market. If he moved on foot, he would be stopped every few seconds by admirers, citizens, and sycophants alike.

Better to travel through the sky.

After several minutes gliding over Rome’s rooftops, he descended toward the Senate Castle with Medea following close behind him. His landing stirred a gust of wind, making the Roman guards stationed at the entrance instinctively grip their weapons—until they saw who it was.

“You—! Septimius!”

“It’s Septimius!”

Both guards widened their eyes in recognition, their stern expressions melting instantly into awe.

Nathan noticed, with a brief glance, that they were no longer Caesar’s guards. New faces. New discipline.

“Are you doing your job well?” Nathan asked coolly as he approached.

“We are!” One said quickly.

“Thank you again, Septimius!” the other blurted. “In the arena—my brother was there. He saw your fight. Formidable!”

“Good,” Nathan said simply. “Let me in.”

They obeyed immediately, stepping aside as if the very air commanded them.

The moment Nathan stepped inside, he wondered for a second if he had mistakenly walked into another building entirely. Rome’s Senate Castle looked familiar at first glance—its grand open rooms, the luxurious bath chambers scattered throughout, the towering circular structure stretching four floors high, and the long spiraling corridors lined with all sorts of entertainment rooms.

But then… the differences hit him.

The stench. Or rather, the lack of it.

Gone was the nauseating blend of sweat, perfume, cheap oils, and the lingering odor of senators indulging in every kind of debauchery in broad daylight.

Instead, the air was surprisingly clean.

The senators themselves were clothed—properly clothed—and not merely draped in half-open togas while pawing at servants. They carried scrolls, engaged in serious discussion, and walked with purpose rather than drunken swaying.

Nathan paused, absorbing the transformation.

He glanced into open bath chambers—yes, senators still bathed, still relaxed, but the atmosphere was dignified, civilized. Conversations were calm. No one screamed for more wine or demanded a slave join them.

Even the slaves—men and women alike—were treated noticeably better. There were still slaves, of course. Rome was Rome. But their posture was straighter, their eyes less hollow. They weren’t trembling or hurrying like frightened animals.

Fulvius’s purge of the Senate, it seemed, had been thorough.

Nathan had heard rumors about it. Now he saw the truth with his own eyes.

As he continued through the wide marble corridors, the senators and nobles he passed paused momentarily, bowing their heads or nodding respectfully.

“Lord Septimius.”

“Septimius.”

Their gazes were filled with admiration—genuine admiration. Some even smiled at him, not out of fear, but respect.

He could hear the whispers just behind their voices, the stories they carried:

The gladiator who fought Romulus in the arena, against the guardian beast of the in coliseum and the one who protected civilians when Caesar fled after causing it by the way.

The man blessed by Athena herself.T

he true victor of the grand tournament.Rome’s new legend.

In this city, in these halls—Septimius was no longer just a stranger from another land.

He was a hero.

And everyone knew it.

As Nathan continued walking down the corridor, he noticed something striking—every senator acknowledged him. Not one dared ignore his presence. Some greeted him with stiff smiles, others with solemn nods, and a few… a few stared with thinly veiled fear trembling in their eyes.

He didn’t blame them. Many had witnessed firsthand what he was capable of.

If he had shown them his true appearance, half the Senate would probably have fainted on the marble floor by the pressure he exuded.

He exhaled quietly.

“Do you feel it, Medea? We can finally breathe in this cursed place,” Nathan muttered.

“Yes,” Medea replied, her voice steady but edged with long-held irritation.

During his previous stays in Rome, she had barely held herself back from burning this entire sweaty cesspit of old, rotting men—castle included. Every corridor had stunk of power abused, bodies unwashed, and corruption rotting under the gilded surface.

The only reason she had restrained herself was Nathan.

His mere presence had kept her grounded, forcing the Senate Castle into something tolerable in her eyes.

Now, though the air felt lighter, cleaner, and far less disgraceful, none of it mattered much to her.

As long as Nathan existed at her side, the rest of the world could burn or flourish—it made no difference.

Soon enough they reached the fourth floor, the same floor where the Heroes of Amun-Ra had once filled every corner with noise and presence. Now, with their numbers reduced, the hallway felt strangely hollow, shadows lingering where vibrant energy once buzzed.

Nathan headed straight to the familiar corridor, steps purposeful. He didn’t need a guide; he already knew where he was going.

Freja’s room.

When he reached it, he didn’t even consider knocking.

It had become a habit—his habit—to enter freely. And Freja had long stopped protesting.

He pushed the door open.

Inside, on the same large bed, four girls were sprawled out, all dressed in loose tunic-style pajamas. Freja, Elin, Ameriah, and Auria were gathered in a tight half-circle, speaking in low, urgent whispers.

Ameriah’s voice was the first to reach him.

“—then Lord Nathan put his precious thing inside my sister down there, and my sister… I’ve never seen her make such an expression—!”

Auria leaned forward like someone listening to the most suspenseful tale of her life.

“T…Then? What happened? Don’t skip!”

Freja’s entire face was crimson.

“W…Wait! Why are we talking about this?! We were supposed to be discussing his fight against the Kingdom of Kastoria! How did it turn into—this?!”

“Yes… Ameriah, you skipped about ten Chapters in one breath,” Elin added, cheeks burning.

Clearly, they were deep in… important discussion.

Nathan chose that exact moment to open the door.

All four girls turned toward him in perfect synchronization.

“Lord Nathan!” Ameriah brightened immediately, her joy bursting through her embarrassment.

She had been worried, after everything that happened. He hadn’t visited them since the chaos of Rome settled, and the anxiety gnawed at her more than she let on.

Freja, Elin, and Auria felt the same—relief flickered across their expressions the instant they saw him.

Ameriah didn’t hesitate. She leaped off the bed and threw herself into Nathan’s chest, wrapping her arms tightly around him, burying her face against him as though she feared he might vanish again.

Nathan caught her shoulders.

Nathan could feel it—Medea’s eyes sharpened behind him like twin daggers of ice.

She was always like this whenever he stood too close to another woman.

Whether it was a casual embrace, a friendly touch, or even a lingering look, Medea reacted the same way every time: a cold, territorial fury simmering just under the surface.

Unless the woman was one of her two sworn sisters, Scylla or Charybdis, Medea’s possessiveness never slept.

Nathan ignored it with the ease of long familiarity.

“How is your body?” He asked, lowering his gaze to Ameriah, still clinging to him tightly.

“I feel amazing,” Ameriah said with a radiant smile. “Completely healed.”

Nathan shifted his eyes toward Elin.

She straightened instinctively. “Yes. I treated her fully. There is no remaining harmful curse—at least, nothing that can injure her anymore.”

“So… there’s still something left?” Nathan asked, eyebrow raising faintly.

Elin nodded. “I removed every corrosive and destructive fragment of the corrupted curse. But there are parts I can’t touch. Harmless remnants. They… feel integrated into her body, like something innate. They won’t hurt her, but I cannot remove them without damaging her.”

“I see.” Nathan nodded slowly.

The Curse of the Blood of the Demon King…

It had always sounded ominous, but now he had confirmation: its roots ran deeper than expected. He would have to study it once he returned to Tenebria, when he had time to unravel its secrets properly.

“You did a good job,” Nathan said, his tone genuinely appreciative.

A simple praise—yet it carried the weight of everything Ameriah had endured. Nathan had seen her collapse, her body trembling from pain. He had seen her bedridden, weak, her life slowly eaten away by an invisible poison. And he remembered Azariah’s trembling hands, her panic, her desperation as she watched her sister suffer.

But now…

Ameriah’s face glowed with health, her cheeks full of life for the first time in years.

Azariah would cry—of that Nathan was certain. First out of relief for her sister’s return, then out of gratitude for her miraculous healing.

Elin’s cheeks reddened the moment she felt Nathan’s sincere gaze linger on her.

“I… I just did what I could,” she murmured, shrinking slightly.

Ameriah leaned forward and grinned. “She saved my life, Lord Nathan! You should reward her properly—and fulfill her wish.”

“I’ll think about it,” Nathan replied. Then his tone firmed. “For now, you and Auria should return to Tenebria. You’re leaving tonight.”

“T…Tonight?!” Ameriah yelped.

“Already, Lord Commander?” Auria added with a sad frown. “C…Can’t we go back with you?”

Nathan looked at her for a moment.

They had clearly grown attached to Freja and Elin, forming a comfortable circle of friendship here.

But Nathan shook his head. “Your father will be worried. And—”

His eyes shifted back to Ameriah.

“Your sister has been dying inside ever since she learned you were kidnapped.”

Ameriah’s expression softened instantly, her lips tightening.

“…Okay,” she whispered reluctantly.

Nathan scanned the room afterward.

“Where is Curia?”

“Oh, she’s resting in Edit’s room,” Freja replied.

Nathan nodded once.

Good.

It was time—time to return Spartacus the woman he loved, and to speak with him about what came next.

Rome was changing.

And Spartacus’s fate had to change with it.